


i'll see you at the gates

by SpineAndSpite



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 17:30:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpineAndSpite/pseuds/SpineAndSpite
Summary: “You watching me?” A sleep-scratchy growl. “Perv.”Something nameless and overwhelming scrabbles at Ryo’s chest. He breathes in, trying to loosen the pressure. He rolls onto his back, because the warm look in Akira’s eyes makes it worse. The ceiling is safer.





	i'll see you at the gates

Ryo wakes up warm. 

He doesn’t sleep much, as a general rule. His mind is hard to quiet, his focus almost superhuman. He can work uninterrupted without food or water or rest. But even he has limits, and he responds to bodily exhaustion the same as any other human—by sleeping long past the advent of the day, limbs suffused with a lethargy so intense he might as well have been drugged. 

Beside him, Akira is laid out on top of the filthy sheets, one hand snarled loosely in his own hair, the other trapped beneath him. Pink lines decorate his back, healed from the desperate, bloody furrows they’d been the evening before. Ryo made them. When Akira was fucking him hard enough to drive the bed against the wall. 

Ryo had tried to cover his mouth to stifle his own noises, but Akira had dragged his hands away to bite at his mouth, lapping up blood, and Ryo had no choice but to howl and claw at his back. 

Taking care of Akira’s urges himself is just practical; after the Silene episode it’s clearly too risky to send Akira out on his own. He’ll expose them, or lose more than just an arm. Ryo had weighed his options and arrived at the most logical answer. But this isn’t just handing out cash or leaving a motorcycle outside Akira’s foster parents’ house. Ryo can’t, by virtue of his human body, separate himself from the acts he performs with Akira. 

He’s had sex before—mostly under the influence of something. Drugs, alcohol, or that driving mania that occasionally grips him, leaving him unable to sit still or work. When his body feels too small to contain his soul and he needs to find a way to pour some of himself off. 

This hadn’t been like any of those times.

Akira’s lips pull back from his fangs, and Ryo realizes his eyes are open and he’s been staring back at him for awhile now. Ryo stays still, caught. 

“You watching me?” A sleep-scratchy growl. “Perv.” 

Something nameless and overwhelming scrabbles at Ryo’s chest. He breathes in, trying to loosen the pressure. He rolls onto his back, because the warm look in Akira’s eyes makes it worse. The ceiling is safer. 

“Obviously,” he says. “How are you feeling?” 

“Good? I think.” Akira stretches; Ryo hears something pop. “Great. Less, uh.” His laugh is gravelly, and Ryo’s stomach flips over when he realizes it’s because he spent a good chunk of last night with Ryo’s dick down his throat. “What about you? Are you, uh…sore?” 

Ryo is still looking at the ceiling, but Akira’s presence is a physical weight, a magnet that draws him back over. “I’m fine, Akira.” He’d asked for everything he’d gotten, after all. He throws the sheets off and sits up, just to prove how fine he is. “There’s nothing wrong with—.” A deep, throbbing pain radiates up his spine. He can’t prevent a gasp through his teeth. 

“Shit, Ryo—.” Akira catches him before he can fall. To be fair, he would have only fallen onto the soft, pillowy bed, and Akira grabbing him sends another jolt of pain through his back. 

“Ryo, don’t push yourself.” Akira’s chest rumbles against Ryo’s back. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Right.” 

Akira’s got him trapped in a bear-hug—demon hug—pulling him resolutely back down. The sun is all the way up; Ryo has emails to answer and interviews to give. The algorithm he’s developing to predict demonic activity isn’t going to write itself. He has things to do. 

But the bed is warm and Akira is _incredibly_ warm. Ryo doesn’t usually like being touched beyond the proprietary, but there is something undeniably pleasant about Akira’s hard, lithe body pressed against him, his fingers moving through Ryo’s hair, petting the back of his neck. It sends shivers all the way down his spine, and Ryo makes a short, involuntary noise. 

Maybe it would be okay to stay like this for just a little longer. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Akira says after a couple quiet, drifting minutes in which Ryo begins to settle back into that warm place just on top of sleep. Ryo senses the bubbling catch in Akira’s voice, the threat of tears. 

“I knew what I was agreeing to,” Ryo hears himself say. His mind and mouth feel very tenuously connected, words pulled from him without his brain signing off. He'd agreed to allow himself to become completely overpowered, held down and ravished by something far more powerful than he is. He’s still not sure if he liked it, but he knows he'd do it again. The aftermath has left him weightless, mind churned up into a gooey froth. 

Akira is hard, and Ryo finds that he is, too, because human bodies and demon bodies are, apparently, idiots. Ryo certainly isn’t in any state for more. There’s being daring, but then there’s just being foolhardy. He can’t work if he’s all torn up inside. He tells Akira as much, to which he lets out a low, rumbling snarl and attaches his mouth to the side of Ryo’s neck. 

Ryo groans, fingers spasming, cock twitching, overworked body responding. He’ll have to look more closely into demon pheromones. They typically don’t affect humans, but it’s possible that Akira’s hybrid biology is different. 

Ryo doesn’t exactly know how their bodies renegotiate themselves; Akira probably does most of the work. But he finds himself pressed flat, Akira’s tongue in his mouth, kissed until he is barely breathing. 

It’s…different than it was last night. It’s still hungry, warm, overwhelming. But the heat is banked low, less desperate. Akira isn’t kissing him because his instincts are forcing him to, he’s kissing him because he wants to. His fingers scrape across Ryo’s scalp, sending shivers all the way through his body. Ryo makes a soft sound of panting enjoyment—he can’t help it. 

Akira smiles, lazy and disheveled. “You’re cute.” 

Ryo scowls. 

“Ha! Now you’re mad. Want me to stop?” 

No, Ryo almost shouts. I want you to kiss me all over, use me, make me yours. I don’t want to ever let you out of my sight, I don’t want others to see you or touch you, I want to burn down the world so there is no one but the two of us left. 

Akira kisses him, strokes fingers through his hair, sucks tiny pink marks into his neck and chest, and Ryo thinks, fleetingly, to the extent that he has capacity for any kind of thought at all, that this could be enough. He could be happy with this. Why bother with any of the rest of it? Fuck the world. Fuck the demon threat. 

If Akira is with him, if Akira stays, then—

Maybe it can be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me at spine_and_spite on twitter!


End file.
